London cobblestones
Today – after quite some time – another entry to this blog of awesomeness. No short story, but a brief picturesque report about what happened in the town, the Entourage visited in June this year.
London city feels like an living organism all by itself. People rushing through rain-wetted streets like erythrocytes through arteries and veins. Just like erythrocytes they try to get that little oxygen, which is still dissolved in the environment around them. The arteries and veins of London loose themselves in the art-like organisation of the London underground transportation system. This mysterious maze of north/south/east/west bound trains is dominated by the two lungs of the great melting pot - the two underground stations Paddington and Victoria - which bring in the oxygen and people from all around London and the entire world. At these two stations millions of people, dreams and and hopes shake hands every day or just pass each another in their hectic lifestyle, which seems to run three times the pace that an individual was originally built to handle. The “new natural selection” is featured by how much shit people can take – by how much nonsense they are able to juggle in their overheated heads, which spin, spin, spin until sooner or later the screw goes loose and mindless bodies rush through grey cities, complaining about the last signs of life like grafitti, street music and noisy kindergartens. London doesnt give you time to breath, but it gives you the opportunity to visit the most unusual places and persons, which might seem like cancer in a already sick body to some folks. These extraordinary beings and locations are uncontrollable, wild and steadily growing. It frightens the authorities, if something is uncontrollable, wild and steadily growing.Should they cut these unwanted bubbles of creativity out of the system? How good is a doctor, who operates himself? People like me go to London for exactly these rare experiences one can only make in the dark streets of Bethnal Green or easy-going Bricklane, tourist-floated Camden or maybe multicultural Brixton. One can walk through London and it will be impossible to be bored. Just on the way from Oxford Circus to Buckingham Palace an interested individual will have the chance to visit one of the dozen musicals, hand-feed quirly squirrels, take a look at the National Portrait Gallery or eat at one of the many inns, pubs and restaurants, which serve everything from hummus specialities over indochinese abnormalities to good old bacon and eggs. In the end though, the most beautiful thing about London is its face. It seems to be a face with millions and millions of freckles that make it hard to take a guess, which colour the face of London actually is. I have met some of those freckles. There were the sweds/finnish – Tomas, Matthias, Lisa (she didnt live there but is swedish ;-)) and David [picture above] – with whom I lived in the ghetto streets of Bethnal Green. Not to forget Jordan – the 17year old english hooligan, who might look like a shirt blowing in the wind, but got a punch like an iron hammer. The least to forget - Graeme and his roommate James, who gave me a cubicle bed to sleep in and took me along when I was new to this country of a town. And there are those ones, the ones you meet and you just got to smile. They are around you like fireflies, lighting up the way in front of you, so that you can finally see a bit clearer again.Thanks to all those, who dont even need to be named, because they know that they made my days!
It's never a “good bye” – it's just a “see you later”
In love,
your Entourage
